


Never a Last Stand

by dracox_serdriel



Series: Trials of Hell and Heart, or Season 8 Fan Fiction [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Bunker Fic, Case Fic, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Hand Jobs, Leviathans, M/M, Romance, Safe Sex Room, Season/Series 08, Sexual Frustration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-04
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-23 05:23:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracox_serdriel/pseuds/dracox_serdriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternative Universe by canon divergence at episode 08x20 "Pac-Man Fever." After the Winchesters complete the Demon Tablet Trials and close the Gates of Hell, Dean and Sam discover that a demon-free world isn't as quiet as they'd imagined it to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Scrambling Home

**Author's Note:**

> **SPOILER ALERT** : This work may contain spoilers from any and all canon episodes of Supernatural through 08x20 "Pac-Man Fever." The "THEN/Previously seen on Supernatural..." in this pre-chapter note contains spoilers for canon and fanfic, namely the prequel episodes of [Trials of Hell and Heart, or Season 8 Fan Fiction (S8FF)](http://archiveofourown.org/series/53569).
> 
>  **THEN**  
>  [08x14 Trial and Error]  
> Dean and Sam completed the first trial to close the Gates of Hell and saved a young woman named Ellie from a hellhound.
> 
> [08x17 Goodbye Stranger]  
> Naomi forced Castiel to attack Dean and obtain the Angel Tablet. He broke free from her control but fled from everyone, even the Winchesters.
> 
> [08x19 Taxi Driver]  
> Sam and Dean completed the second trial to slam the Gates of Hell. Kevin, worried that Crowley had somehow gotten inside his head, fled his safe house.
> 
> [08x20 Pac-Man Fever]  
> Charlie assisted on a case while Sam's illness continued to worsen. 
> 
> [[08x21 Deep in the Hole](http://archiveofourown.org/works/990473)]  
> Castiel struggled to protect the Angel Tablet. First captured by angels, then by demons, he managed to rescue Kevin Tran from Crowley.
> 
> [[08x22 Black Hole Sun](http://archiveofourown.org/works/990483)]  
> The Winchesters healed Kevin, and he translated the Third Trial: to remove a claim on a living soul.
> 
> [[08x23 Turnaround](http://archiveofourown.org/works/990488)]  
> Sam discovered a way to complete the third trial. Naomi's forces captured Castiel.
> 
> [[08x24 No Hiding Place](http://archiveofourown.org/works/990490)]  
> The Winchesters enlisted an angel in hiding to rescue Cas from Heaven after Sam completed the third trial. Knowing that Crowley would defend his kingdom with everything Hell had, the Winchesters marched on the Gates of Hell for a final battle with a ragtag army of monsters gunning for revenge.

Dean Winchester, bloodied and dizzy from the head shot that dropped him cold, woke next to a pile of bodies. On instinct, his eyes attempted to assess the situation.

"Chaos," as a term, failed to capture the true condition of the scene.

Dean was in the middle of a courtyard surrounded by smoldering walls and buildings just beyond them. Fire and stone actually rained down from the south, a byproduct of buildings crumbling.

Around him and throughout the entire area, beaten and mangled bodies spattered the ground. He didn't recognize anyone around him.

"Cas! Sammy!" Dean cried out, staggering to his feet. "Sam!" The rasp in his voice confused him, and the lack of balance just pissed him off. He coughed, then doubled over. Falling to his knees, he saw a sprinkle of his own blood over his arm... he was coughing blood.

The hiss of flame, the rumble of collapsing walls, the devastating screech of the winds knitted a cacophony that could drown out any sound. Yet, he felt words touch his ears, like a close whisper, and the words were, _"Dean? You are alive. Dean... you are alive."_

With all the demons, monsters, witches, spells, and creepy crawly things Dean had killed, he knew better than to trust a disembodied voice, but this time - he didn't know how, since he couldn't really hear enough to identify the voice - this time he knew that the words were from Castiel.

As this revelation dawned on the concussed and collapsed Winchester, he pushed himself to scramble forward. He waded through the corpses, yelling "Cas!" over and over again, occasionally punctuated by a coughing fit.

Dean stumbled over a body and jolted at the sight of a dead werewolf. His head throbbed unnecessarily as memories bubbled up.

They departed on this mission as a trio, leaving the prophet Kevin Tran and his mother in the care of a swarm of hunters rounded up by Garth. Yet for whatever reason - monster mash meet up, chain letters, or creepily expedient gossip - monsters learned about the Last Winchester Stand against Hell, and the trio found themselves in odd company.

The mod squad consisted of a little bit of everything: werewolves, shape-shifters, ghouls, skin-walkers, arachnes, djinns, and especially vampires. They were ready for a chance to retaliate against Crowley for his little quest for Purgatory, when he killed off alpha after alpha and crippled monster populations everywhere.

Over two dozen monsters joined them, and now all of them were dead. 'Damn it,' Dean thought to himself, he had to find Cas and Sam -

Dean felt too weak to stand, so he crawled forward instead. Cas was here, he knew it -

Again, words hovered close to his ear, and Dean turned his head to listen better, _"Dean, I'm so sorry. Dean. I'm..."_

The signature trench coat caught Dean's eye, "Cas...!"

Castiel was there, under a pile of vampires and werewolves who had apparently come to his aid during the fray. Scrambling, half-crawling, half-running, Dean collapsed next to the angel, pulling bodies off him.

Dean had seen plenty of heinous injuries, but none of them prepared him to see Castiel in his present state. His entire right side was swollen and bruised from a horrific beating, which seemed like nothing when compared to the multiple stab wounds that had only partially healed.

Dean pulled Castiel's head into his lap. "Cas, man, I'm here, okay? You're gonna be okay? Okay? Cas? Damnit! Cas!"

His voice echoed hugely throughout the courtyard.

The angel opened his one good eye and smiled with the good half of his face, "Hi." But Castiel was very weak. His eye fluttered shut.

"Cas, you gotta hold on, okay?"

Cas pushed his eye open again, trying to fixate on Dean, but the weakness was spreading.

There was a moment, when the swirling abyss around them suddenly became a wilted flower. The air cleared. Simplicity set in, and Castiel and Dean were the only things in all the universe.

Some would attribute this moment to the amazing power of love; however, in this instance, the moment is better attributed to a combination of air pollutants from the rubble and smoke and a solid pair of head injuries.

"Listen to me, you angelic bastard. You made me watch you die after the Leviathan took you over. Then you made me leave you behind in Purgatory as that portal ripped me away... and the guilt from that nearly killed me. You can't make me leave you again. You can't make me watch you die again, you bastard. You understand me? You can't do this to me."

Dean felt helpless as Cas's good eye drifted shut. "Cas? Don't close your eyes. Look at me," Dean brought his face as close as possible. "Look at me. Stay with me."

"I've been poisoned. I'm dying, Dean..."

"Shut up," he whispered back. "Just, look at me, Cas. Stay with me. I need you... to stay with me. You hear me? I. Need. You."

A firecracker lit up Castiel's chest cavity. The words "I need you" from Dean Winchester were rare, and his desperation jolted Cas even more. Of all the things he could've said... "I need you" shook Cas awake. His entire body vibrated with pain. Each heartbeat intensified his agony, but Dean held him and demanded to be seen. So Castiel stared into his green eyes, unsure of how much longer his body would hold out.

"Dean," Castiel pressed, "I..."

Dean made a soothing noise that the angel recognized as a sign to be quiet.

Unknown to Dean, his brother heard the ruckus he made as he retreated from the falling buildings. Sam ran into the courtyard and spotted Dean cradling Castiel in his lap.

Sam bellowed, "Dean!"

Cas recognized Sam's voice. "Dean, you need to go - "

"Not without you."

Sam joined them both, covered in sweat and blood, "Dean, Cas, are you - "

"Sam?" Dean looked up at his brother, genuinely surprised. "You're alive?"

"Better," he said, "I did it. The Gates, they're closed."

"You - you closed the Gates of Hell?" Dean asked, disbelief and concussion clouding his mind. "And you're alive?"

Sam nodded, and before he could respond, Cas turned to him, "Take Dean and go. Please - "

Dean cut him off, "You shut up you sonova bitch, shut up and rest, because we're not leaving you here to die."

"Think about," Cas pushed out of his mouth, "the Impala."

"What?" Sam and Dean replied simultaneously.

"Think about the Impala," the angel said. He turned to Sam, one blue eye fixed on him, "and take my hand."

The brothers exchanged looks of utter confusion. Castiel seeped exasperation as he said, "I might be able to get us away, if you both concentrate on the Impala."

Dean pulled the angel up, almost into a sitting position, and Sam reached out and took Cas's one good hand. Together they concentrated on the Impala. They chose to park the Impala in a particularly shady, well-hidden place off I-5.

Suddenly, all three whisked away, and just as abruptly, they were dropped on their asses around the car.

"Way to stick the landing, there, Cas," Dean joked affectionately.

Sam was less amused, mostly because he was unconscious, having been smashed into a tree.

"My apologies," Cas whispered. "It's harder to do with passengers, and when dying."

"Shut up," Dean said, "okay? Just hold on a little longer for me."

After checking Sam's pulse, Dean made it to walkie stowed in the car door, "Charlie? Garth? We - we made it out. But, uh, none of us can really drive so we'll need a pick up."

"You're alive?" came Garth's voice. "Hallelujah!"

"We'll be there for pickup in 20, roger?" Charlie's voice came next. She seemed calmer than usual.

"Charlie, you still got that favor due from Gilda?" Dean asked, remembering the fairy he helped Charlie free from a binding spell.

"Totally," she replied.

"You be willing to cash it in? Cas is outa angel mojo or down for a count or something - "

" - I'm on it," she replied, the excitement bubbling up in her voice. Dean felt bad about blocking her from banging a fairy; maybe now she'll get a second chance.

"Thanks, Charlie."

"See you ASAP," came Garth's voice.

Dean put the walkie down and turned back to Cas, "You okay there buddy?"

"I'm still here..." the angel mumbled. "What happened to Sam?"

"He's knocked out from the landing," Dean worked his way over to Cas, leaving his brother unconscious. "He'll be fine. It's - "

A rustle of wings stopped him short. The angel Naomi joined them.

"You missed it," Dean said to her, pushing bravado to cover his cough. "The whole battle-to-end-battles, closing the Gates of Hell? Yeah. But a bunch of Eve's freaks joined us for the fun."

"I saw," she commented tritely.

"And didn't think an extra angel or two would be a good idea on this one?" Dean shot at her.

When she didn't respond, he continued, "Are you here to help us out or what? How's about a little healing?"

Naomi replied slowly, "I am here to help you and Sam."

"Sam's fine, he's just knocked out. Cas is the one who needs a hand here - "

" - she's not here to help me, Dean," Castiel rasped from the ground. "She's here to kill me." He made a valiant attempt to sit up, but it only served to drain him more.

Naomi closed in, "I'm sorry, Dean, but he was given a choice, and this - "

"No freaking way," Dean snapped, stumbling between her and Castiel's broken vessel. "After everything we've done, there's no way - "

"Do you really think you can stop me, Dean?" Naomi kept her voice level and calm. "You're hurt, you don't have an angel blade, and you can barely stand."

"So, what? You wait till we're all broken and bloody to make your move, lady? That's a bitch move on your part."

"Please, this isn't about you."

Dean smothered a sarcastic laugh. "If it's about Cas, then it is about me."

"Castiel has fallen over and over again, and every chance for redemption - "

"Screw redemption. You screwed with my brother's head so he'd leave me to die in Purgatory, and let both of us think that was his choice for months before the truth came out. What about your redemption for that?"

Naomi's patience wore thin. It's not often she dealt with her dirty laundry being aired, and it made it difficult to maintain her composure. "Like I said, I'm not here for you Dean, I'm here to take Castiel - "

"Back off, bitch, you're not taking him."

She moved closer as she spoke because Sam stirred, and she didn't want to deal with both belligerent hunters.

"I am," she said. "I just wanted you to know that I am sorry, Dean."

She reached up to touch his forehead to put him to sleep.

Dean stopped her when he said, "Then there's something you need to know."

"Oh?"

"Azazel. Lilith. Zachariah. Lucifer. Eve. Dick Roman. Crowley. Oh, and freaking Zeus."

"I'm sorry?" Naomi asked, wondering if Dean's head injury was more substantial than she detected.

"At the time, they all thought they could do whatever they wanted to whoever they wanted. They told me I couldn't stop them. They were un-fucking-touchable. All of them screwed with my family. You know what they have in common now?"

"Dean, what - "

" - they're all dead, or stuck in a box. All of them. That's what happens to high-and-mighty assholes who go after my family. And Cas here, he's family. You touch him, try to hurt him, and I will drop your name on that list without even thinking about it."

Dean was bloody and bruised, not to mention swaying off balance, but the venom he managed to put into his words made his intent clear. "You want to kill Cas and live, then you'd better kill all three of us, otherwise - "

" - I admire your loyalty, Dean," Naomi said. "But a fair warning. Now that Hell is closed, the other angels may be less, uh, amenable to your threats."

"You mean you'll send your soldiers after him?" Dean demanded. "Wow, that's classy."

An approaching car covered the sound of Naomi's departure.

"Dean," Cas sputtered. "Thank you."

"Shut up," he replied affectionately. "Okay? Thank me later when we're not both bleeding."

Garth pulled up in his pickup, Charlie and the fairy Gilda riding in the bed of truck.


	2. Fairy Magic Will Do That

Castiel woke in a bed. His head hurt. His feet hurt. Everything between the two hurt.

Disorientation licked him. With no need to sleep, angels find unconsciousness a bewildering rarity. He shook himself and found his grace felt out of place. He remembered something about a fairy –

That didn't make a lot of sense to him, but then again, he woke up in a dark room wearing only underwear and an undershirt. So maybe life wasn't supposed to add up right now.

The confusion propelled him to an upright position, which he immediately regretted. Apparently moving too quickly in his current state could cause vertigo. He made a mental note of it for later.

"What... happened?" he said out loud.

He started to remember the fight, but all of that whirled by quickly. Then he remembered Naomi and Dean –

His heart sped up as he thought of how Dean defended him.

But after that, all he remembered was the POP! of the fairy magic and darkness. And someone putting cold, wet fabric on his head. This seemed to be a strange custom, but he definitely remembered it happening.

He heard breathing; someone must be nearby. "Dean?" Cas asked. "Hello?"

Cas felt around for a light switch, which felt a foolish thing for an angel to do. As he found the switch, he remembered Dean's voice over his head. "Com'on Cas, damnit," he said, "you gotta keep fighting, okay? Gilda said the fever would break, so just... please, just ride it out." He had said this while applying wet fabric to his forehead. The ritual was unknown to Cas; perhaps it was a human form of comfort.

He moved the switch and the lights snapped on, far too bright. Squinting, he looked around the room. It wasn't a motel room; Cas surmised it must be the "bat cave" Dean mentioned. The room didn't look like it was in a cave at all, but then again, Dean Winchester had a funny way of expressing things.

And there he was, sprawled out over a very short couch beyond the foot of the bed.

It looked as if Dean had fallen asleep by accident. Cas hardly imagined he would have willfully drooled down his front.

Finding his sea legs, Castiel made his way over to Dean to wake him up.

He didn't make it – Dean's eyes snapped open, and then his jaw dropped. A quick succession of movements then followed: Dean stood straight up, reacted to the drool with surprise, then attempted to wipe it away. Failing, he shook himself and made it to Cas in two strides.

"You're awake, you bastard!" he exclaimed, clasping Cas in a hug.

"Yes, I am... and there's nothing illegitimate about my birth, Dean."

"You were down for three days, Cas, three," Dean continued, the level of affection and annoyance in his voice intermingling so they couldn't be separated anymore. "With a fever running to a hundred and six."

"That sounds deeply unpleasant."

"You kept babbling about crap, Cas, you remember any of that?"

"No," he replied, tilting his head to one side. "Was this when you were putting wet fabric on my head?"

Dean squinted at Cas, "Yeah, to keep your temperature down."

"I see."

"You kept telling me to leave you to die, Cas," Dean said. "You really don't remember any of that?"

"You sound very angry," commented Cas.

"Damn right."

Dean started pacing. Out of all the human beings Cas had ever met, Dean went from sleeping to agitated out of his mind the fastest.

"You kept saying stuff like, 'You need to get out of here, I'm dying,' and then 'Naomi came to kill me, not you...' Like telling me when that shit was actually happening wasn't bad enough – "

"I'm sorry, I don't remember saying any of it," Cas placated. "After the first time, anyway."

"Okay, about that," Dean snapped, "what the hell, Cas?"

"Dean, I was trying to – "

"To what? Give up?"

"I was trying to save you," the angel spat back.

"What does that even mean? The Gates of Hell are closed, Cas, we should be breaking out the freaking champagne!"

The angel cast his eyes down. "Naomi, before the connection broke between us, the mind control modification she did to my vessel, she gave me an ultimatum."

"An ultimatum?"

"I believe that is the term, yes," Cas said.

"This was when you touched the Angel Tablet?" Dean asked.

"No, before, when my orders were to kill you." Cas tried to hide his shame but failed. "I kept asking her not to make me, and – she told me that I had to choose between you or them."

"You mean humans and angels?"

"No," Cas said. "You and Sam or the angels. She wanted me to kill you so I'd cut my bonds, my ties, to the human world. To Team Free Will as you called it."

"Cas..."

"But I couldn't do it. I just – couldn't kill you," he said. "And after that, Naomi put a price on my head. She couldn't reform me, so I have to die."

"Well, let'em try," Dean said. "Because – "

"Dean, we're talking about all the angels in Heaven, with no hell to oppose them, no demons to contain... I knew as soon as the gates were closed, they'd come for me."

"When last I checked, Kevin, his mother, me, Sam, we don't trust any angel other than you. So, they'd better suck it up and deal."

"I'm glad to be here," Cas offered, "I just don't want to put you at risk..."

"Can it, Cas. You're staying."

Castiel's stomach gave a long, rolling roar. Both he and Dean looked down in surprise.

"You feeling okay there, Cas?"

"I don't know what that was," the angel responded, honestly embarrassed.

"You're hungry, that was your stomach." Dean sized him up. "You still got your angel mojo right?"

Castiel zapped behind Dean with a flutter to prove his point. "Seems my mojo, as you call it, is still there."

"Damnit Cas, don't do that!"

"I remember being poisoned in battle," Cas said. "Maybe I haven't fully recovered?"

"Gilda, the fairy Charlie's dating, she told me she was able to cure all the poison, but you might be... a little more human for awhile," Dean stated. "But she didn't elaborate."

"Fairy magic isn't... compatible with demonic or angelic power. That must be why my head hurts and my stomach is... roaring."

Dean cracked a wide smile, "Well, I can fix that last one, at least. Let's get something to eat."


	3. Brunch

Dean moved around the kitchen, frying bacon and broiling burgers. He'd been living at the Men of Letters Lair for almost a year, and he felt like a master in the kitchen.

The questions that bubbled up in his head distracted him. More than once he burned perfectly good bacon. Castiel watched him with his usual blue, childlike eyes.

"I gotta ask," Dean started casually. "I thought the Angel Mind Control thing was broken by the tablet."

"It did sever the last ties," Cas admitted. "But I rejected her orders before that."

"Okay, but how?"

"Naomi doesn't understand..." Cas tried to find the right words. "She's an angel, and like most angels – "

"She's a bitch."

"She doesn't understand emotion. She thought she could condition me into killing you – "

"Condition you? Like a simulator?"

"About a thousand times," Cas said simply.

"You killed me a thousand times?" Dean shot at him, burning another batch of bacon.

"Only technically," Cas said, trying to dismiss the idea. "Not the real you, obviously."

Dean dished out burgers and bacon on two separate plates. "Come get your brunch."

They sat at the table, an actual dining room table, to eat. Cas remarked several times on the crispiness of the bacon, "It reminds me of apples."

"Apples, obviously," said Dean, his mouth full.

Finally realizing what was amiss, Castiel asked, "Where's Sam?"

"Garth caught a case yesterday, and Sam wanted in, I think they're in Idaho or something."

The angel found the burgers palatable, and soon his stomach stopped growling.

"Okay, so if it wasn't the tablet, and if you'd done it a thousand times before, how did you break free?" Dean asked.

Cas literally squirmed in his seat. "Naomi underestimated our connection," Cas said evasively.

"Our connection?"

"Yes."

"Cas, com'on, you can tell me."

"Naomi doesn't know love like I do."

The silence that followed this statement was both profound and uncomfortable, and it lasted until after brunch, when Sam called to check in with Dean.

"Angel-boy is awake," Castiel heard Dean say into the phone.

He dropped his voice, apparently forgetting that angels hear people's silent prayers, to say, "Why would we? Sounds like you guys got it covered. We'll stay here."

Dean started pacing again, "No, he's fine, we just – we're taking the day off, okay? Seriously, we wiped all demons off the face of the earth three days ago, how are we all not on vacation?"

The conversation ended with Dean saying "Stow it, Sammy!" and hanging up.

"Does Sam require our assistance?" Castiel asked.

"No, Garth'n'Sam can handle it," Dean said. He put his phone down and started for Cas.

"You have another case?"

"No, we're taking the day off."

"What does that entail?"

Dean had been very particular about the notion of personal space. Castiel didn't quiet understand it, but he managed to create a mathematical function that interpreted environmental variables, such as ceiling height and other room dimensions, to gauge the approximate distance he should have between himself and another person.

For whatever reason, however, the notion no longer seemed to apply. The room they were standing in was incredibly spacious and empty except for the two of them, yet Dean came close enough to Castiel that he could feel his breath.

"I am going to make one thing absolutely clear," Dean said, keeping his voice low. "We're men."

"Actually, you're a man and I'm a – "

"I mean, we're guys, okay? We don't sit around and talk about our feelings or anything like that."

"On several occasions, we've – " Castiel stopped short as Dean's eyebrows raised. Generally, this expression meant something like, "Really, Cas? Really?"

"Right, we're guys," Cas said in agreement.

Dean's expression changed. Completely. His eyes clouded over, searching for something, and his bravado dropped away. Castiel tilted his head to –

Suddenly pulled Castiel towards him, one hand around the back of his neck the other around his lower back. It literally zapped the thoughts straight out the angel's head when Dean's lips pressed against his.

Cas was married once, when he had amnesia and, believing himself to be human, took on the identity Emmanuel. He remembered kissing his then-wife, sliding his lips over her top lip, or gently tugging at her bottom lip with his. He also remembered tongue and teeth being involved sometimes, but he could never recall a kiss like this one. It started soft and quiet, not to mention suddenly, then continued, first with lips, then teeth, then tongue. At some point, Castiel's right hand slid up Dean's chest while his left hand ended up in Dean's hair.

Dean had tried to think of a thousand ways to talk to Cas, but nothing he thought of made any sense. And sure as hell, no amount of it would've given him the spine-tingling sensations he was currently having.

Instead of being new, or exciting, or even tentative, it felt like this kiss had happened a hundred times before, although both Dean and Castiel would've remembered it had that been the case.

Several new sensations occurred while all this was happening, as if Castiel's insides were rearranging themselves. Nerves all over his body pricked up, while his stomach and liver felt odd.

Dean moved one of his hands slowly up Castiel's neck, cupping his chin, then moving on to his cheek. The touch made Cas's heart skip a beat, which then sent out a radiating pulse that exploded all the light bulbs nearby. The event surprised them both and jolted them apart.

"Uh, Cas, what the hell was that?"

"I'm uncertain," the angel said quietly. Then he added, "I think it was you."

"Me?"

"Yes."

"How do you figure?" Dean asked, his eyes still adjusting to the dark.

"I don't usually explode things, unless that is my intent."

"Then what caused – "

"I think the expression is, my heart fluttered," he offered helpfully.

"So that's going to happen every time?" Dean asked.

Luckily the first jolt took out all the lights; otherwise Castiel would've exploded the remainder at the idea, no, the promise, of another kiss.

"Dean, I – "

"Me, too," Dean cut him off, "remember what I said?"

"We're men?"

"That's right. We don't talk about our feelings."

"Of course."

"Let's just, keep the explosions to a minimum," Dean said.

Cas swallowed hard. He wasn't sure he could promise not to explode anything –

Again Dean cut off his brain with a kiss, pushing Castiel's back against a wall. This wouldn't've have been a problem, except the wall in question was actually an unlatched door that swung in and caused both of them to fall awkwardly.

"That was not me," Cas asserted immediately.

Dean laughed. "I know, Cas."

"Why are you laughing?" the angel asked.

He stroked Cas's face and whispered, "I'm happy, that's why."

"Dean, I – "

But again, his thoughts stopped short at Dean's touch, which continued undeterred for two blissful minutes until –

Dean's emergency ringer buzzed on his phone.


	4. Fruitland, Idaho

"You gotta be kidding me," Dean stomped over to his phone. "What?" he answered.

"Maybe they need help," Castiel said.

Even in the dark, Cas could see Dean's face falling, first into anger, then concern. "Okay, okay, calm down. Where are you?"

"Is there a problem?"

Dean hung up. "We need to get to the outskirts of Fruitland, Idaho... a place called the Enlightenment Compound... Garth and Sam are there."

Castiel took Dean's arm, and in the moment it took for him to understand touch in a new context, they were there, next to an unconscious Garth and freely bleeding Sam.

"Sam," Dean spat out as he closed in on his brother, "what the – "

His words were cut short by the roar of a mouth-wide Leviathan, ready to chow down on Garth. Dean grabbed a blade from Sam and slashed his way toward the monster, who seemed to enjoy the additional challenge.

The Leviathan tackled Dean, knocking his sword away and pinning him down. This was an unfortunate move on the monster's part, as Castiel grabbed it by the hair and blasted it, congealing its insides and burning out its eyes.

Dean got up, and for good measure, chopped off its head.

"Why?" Sam inquired.

"Just in case... never seen an angel smite a Leviathan outside of Purgatory," Dean replied flippantly.

Meanwhile, Cas had gone over to Garth and reached out his hand. The weedy ex-dentist shot straight up and exclaimed, "Hey now!" in response to the healing.

"There's at least one more," Sam pointed out as Cas healed his broken arm.

"What the hell were you thinking, going after two Leviathans without more backup?"

Garth snorted, "We thought they were just shape shifters."

"You were very wrong," Castiel replied. "Are you sure there were only two Leviathan?"

"Started themselves a cult," Garth explained. "People join up and are eaten for their troubles. Anyone comes to call looking for any of the members, and, well, either they're lunch or the Levis got a chunk stashed away somewhere."

"Damnit," Dean interjected. "Last thing we need is another group of Leviathan with a plan. Let's hope the one that got away was Pinky and this one was the Brain."

"Pinky?" Cas inquired.

"I'll show you an episode later," Dean said dismissively.

"We gotta git going, guys," Garth pointed out, "the other Levi's still here."

"You got any Borax?" Dean asked.

"We brought silver..."

"I'll get it," Castiel offered before disappearing.

Garth lead Sam and Dean out of the room and deeper into the compound. In terms of creepy cult hideaways, the place passed muster. Being empty made it easy to search.

As they padded down another hollow hall, Castiel popped back in, with an industrial spray bottle for each of them. "He's in there," the angel said helpfully as they approached a large double-door.

"Howdu know?" Garth asked.

"Subtly is not a strong Leviathan trait," Cas remarked simply.

Garth motioned to an amused Sam and Dean to take left and right as he went center. "You sure, Garth, last time – "

"Sam, please," Garth whispered, "let's go."

Amazingly, Garth was able to kick in the double doors. It's easier when they're not locked. Brandishing their spray bottles, Sam and Dean flanked Garth. The Leviathan powered towards them until the continuous borax rained down on him.

A flutter of wings and Castiel was behind the second Leviathan. The plan would've been flawless, but the room was too wide to be properly surrounded by four people. Breaking rank towards Sam, the monster smashed itself through one of the far windows.

Garth ran to the window and saw that the thing that disappeared. "Hell, that's new," he commented mildly.

"We've got a bigger problem," Sam remarked as he looked at the package the Leviathan had dropped before they entered. "Not as elaborate as Big Daddy Chomper's plan, but I think we've got one, or the starts of one, here." The assessment might've been premature, given the three second glance he had for the bag, but he had a bad feeling about it all.

"Let's take the crap and get the hell outa here," Dean suggested.

"We gotta room at the Brick Lane Motel," Garth said, "And if you two wanna come, one of you's gotta ride in the truck bed."

Dean called dibs on the truck bed; Sam made a passing comment about his brother being like a dog. "I guess he could be a Siberian Husky," Castiel commented. "Of course, I am not well versed in dogs."

"So you're an angel, then?" Garth commented brightly.

 

Back at the Motel, Sam confirmed his initially hasty assessment as he looked through the documents the Leviathan had packed up.

"Demons are wiped from the face of the earth, and now we've gotta wannabe Dick Roman? Couldn't get a week off or something?" Dean complained loudly.

"'Course not, Dean," Garth said smugly. "Hunters hunt so long as there's something out there to kill, right?"

"Don't forget ghosts," Sam added.

"Is there any indication of where they could be?" Castiel asked. "I could survey the areas for activity."

Sam pulled out a map and showed Cas. "It's marked up, but there's no key. Some cities are circled twice, different colors. Some once with another – it's gotta be some kind of code. Before we go poking around, we might want to dig in, you know?"

"I say we pack up this stuff, call a hunter's meet back at my safe boat, and get crackin' – " Garth began.

"Okay, well, sounds like a marathon kinda deal not a sprint," Dean commented.

"Yeah, I might have some resources we can use back at our place. Give me a few days, huh?" Sam said to Garth.

"Right, 'course," Garth conceded.

"Before we go, Sammy, can you write down that we need light bulbs for the Bat Cave?"

"What?"

Dean replied, "So we don't forget on our way home."

"I had an exploding mishap," Castiel admitted guiltily. "So you either need candles or more electronic bulbs... sorry."

"Exploding mishap? That sounds like a bitova personal problem," Garth remarked with sympathy. "You okay man?"

The expression on Castiel's face, as read by Dean, was something like I-didn't-know-love-caused-angels-to-explode-things-so-please-don't-blame-me. He tilted his head and let the confusion break over his face.

Sam looked from Dean to Cas over and over again. "Well, he took down a Leviathan today, how bad can he be?"

"I'm driving," Dean yelled, almost rushing the door to ensure the driver's seat.

"Shotgun," Castiel said, winging out just be sure.

Garth stopped Sam from following them. "What's going on with them?"

"Uh, just you know, guy stuff," Sam said uncertainly.


	5. Safe Sex

Back at the Bat Cave, Sam walked around, replacing all the light bulbs and making note of a half dozen spoiled electronics. "The coffee maker? Seriously guys? How did you manage this?"

There was no response.

"Dean?" Sam yelled, moving throughout the rooms. "What the hell?"

He pounded on Dean's door to no avail. As he popped the door open, a note fell on his head; apparently, it had been jammed in the door's crevice like a booby trap. 

Dear Sam:

First, don't go in my damn room if the door is shut, even if I don't respond.

Second, I'm on vacation. Not fake, cut-short vacation, but actual vacation, all day. Do me a favor and don't call, even if that means you take the day off to make sure you don't have to.

\--Dean

"Nice," Sam said to himself, crumpling up the note.

 

Rufus's Cabin had fewer electrical appliances than any motel or other hideaway the Winchesters used. It wasn't nearly as well kept, but it had all the essentials, and what's more, with Sam stashed at the Men of Letters Lair, it was completely isolated and unknown. That's how Dean chose the place for his 'day off' with Castiel.

Above all, it was his eyes – the steady, steel-blue fixtures – that kept Dean on track. Uncertainty, or embarrassment, would nip at his heels, but all he'd have to do is look into Castiel's eyes, and all that evaporated.

Kissing had long been a favorite pastime of Dean's, and he never felt a hitch in kissing the angel.

Admittedly, Dean never imagined locking lips with another man, touching him, groping him, moaning his name – but then again, he never thought he'd be in love, as in holy-shit-I'm-complete-with-you-fucking-soap-opera love, with an angel. And the lack of imagination, or perhaps a better word is 'forethought,' made the entire experience continuously surprising and blissfully thought-free... fluid, even slippery, as time went on.

In truth, an element of angelic being is a form of spiritual telepathy, similar to listening to a silent prayer, but on a physical level. Every time Castiel healed Dean, he felt every gyrating atom in a single touch. Sexual contact through his vessel amplified this particular phenomenon, like accelerating the spinning of a wheel, to the point of where it opened Dean up to the same experience of Castiel.

Vulcan mind-meld-like events aside, the sheer physical sensation alone could've slain its fair share of dragons, should anyone be willing to put it to the test.

It started with Castiel pulling Dean into his lap, holding his hunter as he placed his chin on his shoulder. For some reason this form of affection seemed more accessible to Cas than the standing-surprise-make-out-session that Dean seemed to prefer.

Dean felt his warm breath on the nape of his neck, hands freely roaming... he turned his head sharply so he and Cas were face to face, and he started to kiss gently.

Hands were suddenly everywhere. Articles of clothing disappeared, and somehow Dean pulled an alpha-male stunt that landed Cas flat on his back on the sofa with Dean on his left side, pinning his angel both down and back into the couch.

By the time they were both stripped to their boxers, red patches of skin and sweat covered them both. Dean slid his left arm under Cas's neck to the other side, so he could cradle his head and chin. This successfully distracted him from the craftily sneaking right hand that slithered down the happy trail and gracefully into his boxers.

Cas let out an audible gasp as Dean's rough hand locked around the base of his shaft. He moved to reciprocate, but Dean whispered, "One at a time." The look in his eyes made it clear that this wasn't a suggestion, so the angel dedicated one hand to the back of Dean's head and the other to his neck and chest.

Up and down, and up and down. Cas's gasps were punctuated by kiss after kiss –

He couldn't hold back anymore. Cas wiggled his hand far enough to dislodge Dean's boxers. He found a tremendous amount of satisfaction in the moan from Dean's lips.

Dean whispered, "Roll over."

As Cas felt his body being tipped so he faced the back of the couch, he put his arm out to stop it. "Dean – "

"Trust me," he whispered, nudging him around.

Somewhere there, between the couch cushions and their hands, they found a rhythm that shook out every muscle in their bodies. Normally Dean would nip, bite, lay his claim, so to speak, on his partner, raising hickeys, but this first time with Cas – and indeed, he thought of it as the first of many – he didn't. Maybe it was the sensory overload; maybe it was because he was afraid of another explosion... but whatever the reason, the biting and kissing all laid on gently.

Castiel hadn't had much experience when it came to sex, and certainly not when it came to the blissful, affectionate sex where he alternated freely as active and passive, letting Dean carry on when he felt overwhelmed. So when Dean slid his erection along the crevice of his ass, when he felt the warm lube sliding into him, it actually shocked him when he felt his stomach drop and his heart speed up in anticipation. Dean used his free hand to angle Cas's hips before he started pushing himself in.

And indeed, additional explosions followed. Luckily, there were only three lamps in the cabin to explode. "Dean, I – "

"Cas," he responded, sliding his hand along his partner's shaft, building up pressure and slowly adding speed.

Unable to control the slow, methodical thrusting, Cas moved his hands in front of him to give him purchase along the back of the couch. As he did this, Dean tenderly wrapped his trapped arm, his left arm, under and around Cas's neck in a rear choke to hold him in position. This was especially important because the sofa was only so wide, and it barely fit the two men spoon-stacked on their sides... the last thing Dean needed was to be bucked off sideways.

The rolling moans shook the cabin – literally, in the case of Castiel's climax, since no electronics were around to explode, his energies apparently shook some of the stone of the foundation. Splitting wood swirled into the sounds of pure pleasure emanating from Dean; at that particular moment, neither cared much that they may have literally brought down the cabin around them, or at least splintered it. It wasn't until a beam cast down next to them that they even really noticed.

Instinctively, Dean pressed Cas's body into the back of the sofa, protecting him from any debris. Post-coitus lethargy set in on him, but apparently angels were immune. He rolled Dean to his other side, making him the little spoon. "Next time it'll be your turn," the angel said gently to his drowsy hunter.

"We might need to build a safe-sex room, Cas," Dean said as he drifted around post-coital bliss. "That we can't blow up, I mean..."

Castiel smiled at the indication of 'we,' and replied, "I understand."

As Dean fell asleep, Cas pondered the requirements of a 'safe-sex' room... it wasn't until a half hour later that he realized Dean had fallen asleep naked in the middle of wrecked cabin that could fall on their heads, with only his angel there to protect him. Something about that seared into Castiel's mind and blood forever.

**Author's Note:**

>  **The Story Continues... with 09x01 Summertime Blues**  
>  The next episode is 09x01 [Summertime Blues](http://archiveofourown.org/works/922542/chapters/1792241), which is the first episode of [Another Chance at the Brass Ring or Season 9 Fan Fiction](http://archiveofourown.org/series/53570) (S9FF).


End file.
